


A Demonic Guide On How NOT To Cope

by TheAnxious_Fem



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blood, Cutting, First Kiss, Fluff, Insecurities, M/M, Other, Our Bois are bad at this, Roller coaster of emotion, Self Harm, tw anxiety, tw depression, tw self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnxious_Fem/pseuds/TheAnxious_Fem
Summary: Crowley has been doing it for centuries.He tells himself that it helps him think.He tells himself that he deserves the pain.He never meant for Aziraphale to find out.He never meant for him to see him this way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 133





	A Demonic Guide On How NOT To Cope

“I just don’t understand...help me to understand…” Aziraphale reached out to Crowley, the first tears having begun to stream down his face. 

“It’s just...it’s a coping mechanism, angel.” Crowley ran his hands over his face, embarrassed and dazed.

He was covered- _absolutely_ _covered-_ in blood. His own and no one else’s. Aziraphale wasn’t ever supposed to _see him like this_. It wasn’t something he wanted to _discuss_. He’d been doing it for centuries. It was the only thing that seemed to _help_. 

“Coping with...with what?” Aziraphale looked like he was in shock, staring down at him. 

In the angel’s defense, it was  _ a lot. _ If he were human, rather than demon, Crowley would most assuredly be dead. It was actually part of what he seemed to sickeningly enjoy about it. Not that he  _ enjoyed it, _ perse. It just...helped.

“It’s...I don’t…” Crowley shook his head, the delirium that came with the blood loss left him feeling more than cloudy. 

The demon was splayed out in his large bathtub. He had severed a large vein in his leg, and another in his arm. The pain, he told himself, helped him think. Think about _ anything _ else. It was how he  _ coped _ . It had started small, more than a millennium ago, just small cuts to clear his head, but it soon grew into something of an addiction. 

“Is that...a  _ blessed _ athame?  _ Crowley _ …” Aziraphale’s voice transitioned into a sob as he gawked at the ornate blade sitting gingerly on the edge of the tub. Something in the darkest depths of the demon’s mind had told him that even if the angel did eventually find out, he would either leave him be,  _ to rot like he deserved _ , or he’d just be _ fine  _ with it. Knowing him as well as he did, though, Crowley should have known _ better. _ He had a terrible habit of lying to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Aziraphale cared for him, he just didn’t think he cared that much. Why should he?

The angel miracled most of the blood away with a shaking hand before he walked over to the edge of the tub and bent over him, reaching down to pick him up. In his own hazy sort of shock, Crowley let him do it. He was very gentle, of course, scooping him up with an arm under his knees and the other behind his neck. 

“Angel..your clothes…” the demon tried to argue. His favorite coat would be  _ ruined _ . What a shite best friend he had become, letting his angel fret over him this way. He cursed himself, silently. 

“I don’t give a  _ fuck _ about my clothes.” Aziraphale half-sobbed as he carried him out of the bathroom, down the hall and into his bedroom. He soundlessly miracled a stack of large towels and medical supplies on a rolling trolley-style cart near the bed before placing the bleeding demon ever so gently onto it.

“I...I have to get you fixed up...hold tight, love…” Aziraphale chewed at his lip as he surveyed the damage. 

The pet name was new. Crowley liked it. He did _ not,  _ however, like how upset his angel was. He wanted to fix it.  _ Needed _ to fix it. 

“M’fine…” He did his best not to slur his words together, but found it hard to make his lips work when they were tingling so much. 

“You are definitely  _ not _ fine.” Aziraphale bit. He quickly got to work, removing Crowley’s bloodied clothes with a wave, and started cleaning the largest of the two lacerations. It stung especially when he started pouring spirits into it. Crowley hissed in a very snakelike manner as the pain struck an exposed nerve and his vision went white around the edges. 

“ _ Don’t move _ .” The angel snapped at him. He  _ deserved _ to be yelled at. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean to  _ yell _ , but  _ please, _ dear, be still so I can…” he sniffled, “So I can patch you up...” Why did he have to be crying? The ball of self loathing in the center of Crowley’s chest clenched tighter, like barbed wire around his heart. 

“M’fine, angel- ah!” He jumped at the feeling of the thick needle going into his skin and winced again at the feeling of the coarse thread slipping through the brand new wound to stitch him up. The cuts had been so very _ deep _ , and with a blessed blade, nonetheless. It wasn’t the same as holy water, so it wouldn’t  _ destroy _ him, he just couldn’t heal it the way he could do other things. It had to heal in a more human manner, and it would take  _ weeks.  _

“I’m sorry, it’s going to _ hurt _ , dear...I can’t...I can’t miracle these closed…I-I tried.” He heard his voice catch. In the back of his mind, he knew this wasn’t going to be something they could just  _ brush off _ . 

It took an agonizingly long time for his angel to finish both of the cuts. Truly painful, both physically and emotionally, in a way that they both seemed affected by. Neither of them really spoke, aside from Crowley’s hisses of pain and the angel’s suppressed sobs. When he was finally done, the angel pulled out a roll of gauze and wrapped him up as carefully as he seemed to be able to manage and miracled all the mess away. 

He leaned forward in the chair that hadn’t been there a few hours prior, elbows on his knees, head in his hands as a sob rocked his body. Crowley shifted, wanting to provide him some sort of comfort, having half a mind to do shots with holy water. He never wanted to burden him like this. His heart ached all the more. 

“C’mere…” He still hadn’t managed to get past the haziness, reaching his bandaged arm out towards the angel- _ his _ angel. Aziraphale looked up at him with a tear streaked face and gave him the softest, most loving smile that left him feeling utterly broken inside. He moved back away from the edge a bit so Aziraphale could climb onto the bed with him, trying not to wince as he jostled his new stitches. 

“Be  _ careful, _ dear…” the angel stiffened, having noticed his pain, gingerly climbing up next to him on the bed. He sat up, leaning back against the leather headboard. Crowley curled around him, head on his chest. Aziraphale tentatively wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his hair. He could feel his tears soaking through. 

“I- m’sorry, angel…” his own eyes began to well up with unshed tears. He clutched a fist into the front of his angel’s shirt, unbuttoned and stained with his own blood. He hadn’t miracled that away. His favorite coat had been long discarded, somewhere in the room. 

“Rest, dear. Sleep, if you can manage it.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “We can talk about all of this later.  _ Please...just rest. _ ” he expected him to move away, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his  _ guilt _ , but he only moved to pull the thick, unsullied duvet over them after kicking off his shoes and miracling both Crowley and himself into something more suitable for sleep. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal did finally manage to overtake him, wrapped as tightly around his angel as he could be. 

When they awoke, in the dark room, several hours later, Crowley felt  _ sick. _ He felt physically drained, and everything ached. On a strangely happy note, though, he was still wrapped tightly around his angel, who clung just as fiercely to him. 

“Are you...awake?” his voice came out hoarse, and his throat felt raw. 

“Hmm?” the angel stirred. “Yes- yes I’m awake. Do you need something, dear?” 

“No, y-you’ve done absolutely enough, I can’t thank you  _ enough _ ...I…” it felt like he had a stone wedged between his ribs.  _ “I’m so sorry, Aziraphale… _ ” tears pricked his eyes again. 

“Don’t cry.. _.don’t cry, love. _ ..please don’t cry…” he heard the lilt in the angel’s voice as his arms squeezed around him more tightly. Even in as much physical pain as he was in, he couldn’t have been in a better place. They’d never been this close before. Always at least a hair’s breadth away, always unsure of the other, and worrisome of their respective upper/lower management. 

The angel, who seemed to be having a similar realization, tensed. 

“Is this...okay?” his voice was low and gravelly- something Crowley would compartmentalize for later. “I’ve only just realized that this might be...inappropriate…” he swallowed thickly.

“It’s only all I’ve ever wanted…” Crowley sighed, feeling the ache in his chest start to lessen a bit. 

Aziraphale stroked his hair with a delicate hand. “Surely not under _ these  _ circumstances?” 

“Most definitely  _ not _ .” Crowley relaxed against his angel.

“How long?” Aziraphale’s hand stopped moving. 

“‘I gave it away.’...” Crowley quoted what he’d said, atop the wall at Eden, doing a horrible job of mimicry.

“Wh-w...Why didn’t you say anything?” The angel tensed again. 

“I’m sorry, angel, but, at what point in the past six thousand years would it have made any sort of difference, in which we didn’t either end up sweeping it under the rug and agree to never speak of it again or go our separate ways to avoid the awkwardness that comes with the inevitable rejection?” It was his turn to be tense. 

To his surprise, Aziraphale relaxed and went back to stroking his hair. 

“Likely the one where I tell you that I’ve been utterly besotted with you since  _ Rome _ .” his angel sighed. He could hear the ghost of a smile in his voice. 

“Rome?” Crowley asked, incredulous, finally turning to face the object of his affections. 

“Rome.” Azirapale gave him the softest of smiles. If his heart had been made of ice, it would have melted, but it had already melted for Aziraphale, so it only served to set his soul ablaze. 

“H-how did you know to come over? You never come to mine- I only seem to ever come to yours…” Crowley prodded, gingerly pulling himself into a kneeling position in front of his angel. 

“I-” Aziraphale’s voice seemed to catch. “Crowley, love, I felt your light start to  _ dim. _ Something in me just felt  _ off, _ and when you didn’t answer your mobile- you...you  _ always _ answer that one...I just sort of...reached out for you, like you do when trying to find a lost soul, and your light was  _ so very low _ . I knocked at your door and you didn’t answer. I came inside and called out for you and now I’m realizing that it’s perhaps due to how  _ thick _ these doors are- your taste will always perplex me- you didn’t answer me and you weren’t anywhere, but I saw the- the blood on the floor just outside the door and...well you know the rest.” He took in a deep, shaking breath and ran his hands over his face. 

Crowley made himself recall the evening from his perspective- he had been shocked to look up, dazed, and see his angel, equally shocked. He’d quickly taken it all in, eyes flicking back and forth between the demon, the knife, and the blood that had coated the entirety of the inside of the large bathtub. Crowley had watched the puzzle pieces fit together in the angel’s eyes. 

“I- I’m so sorry, angel.” Crowley lamented, reaching up to touch his angel but quickly retracting his hand. 

“Why are you sorry, love?” Aziraphale had so much love in his face, leaning forward as he asked the question. 

“I never...I never wanted to burden you with this. I never wanted anyone to know. I’m sorry…” He looked down, nearly blinded by the kindness and compassion that flooded out of the being in front of him. 

“You’ll  _ never _ be a burden to me.” The angel reached over and tilted his chin up to meet his gaze. “Here I’ve been spending my life making any and all excuses I can manage, just to see you. You’ve saved me from myself on countless occasions and never once had a legitimate complaint. You know those wounds could have  _ ended you. _ My darling, we’ve just been graced with an  _ out _ . What has been troubling you so?” 

“It’s more or less an addiction, at this point.” Crowley shrugged. 

“If we are discorporated now, dear, I do believe that will be the end of us. You mustn't be so  _ reckless.  _ I don’t think I could bear a world without you in it- I’d be searching for you in every fire-haired bloke with an ounce of swagger...I- I’d probably take up smoking clove cigarettes and I-I’d frequent seedy bars…” He shivered. 

“You’d just discorporate the moment you stepped through the door of a seedy bar, angel.” Crowley scoffed, grinning. 

“Is that presumption enough to keep you here...with me?” he sighed. 

“Angel, I’d serve myself up on a platter for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks reddened. “I suppose I’ll need to come over more often, now.”

“You can...stay here, if you like?” the demon chewed his lip. 

“Stay...here?” Aziraphale swallowed. 

“If you like.” 

“If I like…” 

“These will take a while to heal.” Crowley gestured to his wounds. 

“I was a nurse in the war.” Aziraphale nodded. 

“ _ The _ war? Angel you ought to be more specific, there have been a lot of wars.” 

“It was one of the big ones, not  _ our _ big one, one of the human ones.” he made a dismissive gesture with his arm. 

“Right, a nurse, so you’ll stay with me, make sure I’m doing well…” he tried to make it sound like a question. 

“Do you want me to stay? You always manage to make things come out in a way that implies it’s my idea- a true tempter- but is it what  _ you _ want, or are you just trying to appease me?” Aziraphale sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Angel, you’re my entire reason for  _ being _ . I don’t want you to go anywhere, ever again. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and have you not be here. I don’t want to keep having to pretend that it isn’t torturous that we’ve been an arm’s length apart for six thousand bloody years because some violet-eyed, complete dipshit upstairs thinks he knows everything about everything but won’t take a moment to experience the creation he was supposedly created to protect.”

“Well, I suppose I could at least stay over until you’re all better- but after that we’ll need to work something else out.” Aziraphale nodded, seemingly pleased with himself. “It’s so...angular, here.”

“I could definitely use a change of scenery.” Crowley agreed. He rather enjoyed the harsh minimalism of his penthouse, but it had felt less and less like a home to him the closer he’d gotten to his angel. They could live in a tree, for all he cared, as long as Aziraphale was there. Aziraphale was his home. 

“Perhaps a cottage- maybe in the south downs area?”

“With plenty of room for my plants and a whole library for all of your books.” the demon grinned toothily. 

“After you’re better.” Aziraphale nodded again.

The pair talked more in depth about what they’d like in a place all their own, as the sun climbed into the sky and pulled them into the morning. Crowley felt exhausted to his very core, but he knew that it would leave his angel stir crazy to sit around in bed all day, so he suggested they pop out for brunch. 

“Perhaps we should stay in?” the angel surprised him. 

“Are you sure, angel?” 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“It’s not like you to sit around all day…” Crowley let his voice taper off. 

“Not like me? Dear boy, what do you think I do at the shoppe all day?” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“Sure, but you’ve got things to busy yourself- I’m the type to lay around and stare into the void all day if I haven’t any prior engagements.” the demon shrugged. 

“It isn’t as though I can’t come up something to do- worry about _you_ , love. I’m not the one in such _a state.”_ the angel gave him his most heart warming smile as he reached over and squeezed his hand. His hands were surprisingly warm- or maybe his own were just cold and clammy. 

“I’m quite beat.” he admitted. 

“I can tell.” Aziraphale sighed. 

“Is it obvious?” Crowley cracked a signature grin.

“Darling, the bags beneath your eyes have bought their own set of luggage. You nearly died- and I will say  _ died _ .” Crowley heard the angel’s voice catch. 

“I don’t think I’d have really, truly  _ died _ , angel.” Crowley waved his hand dismissively. 

“ _ Crowley,”  _ Aziraphale’s voice grew quite stern, “ _ your light...was going  _ **_out_ ** . What would have happened, had you discorporated? Do you really think that Hell would have just let you come back, after everything?”

The angel had a point, but Crowley wasn’t quite ready to face any sort of music. 

“Well, I didn’t, and now we’re here, and we’ve finally begun discussing things that we really ought to have discussed a millennia ago.” the demon shrugged.

Aziraphale shook his head and sighed, grabbing Crowley’s hands. 

“Please,  _ please _ come to me when you feel like you’ve got to do that. Let me offer a distraction- I really must insist.” The angel interlocked their fingers and squeezed. 

“I-I” the demon stammered, “Alright, angel.” he nodded. 

Aziraphale rewarded him with another smile. 

“Crowley?” he asked.

“Yes, angel?” 

“You really fancy me?” he chewed his lip, obviously nervous. 

“Why on earth would I want to share a cottage, of all things, with you, angel, if I  _ didn’t  _ fancy you?” it was the demon’s turn to grin. 

“Well I- you- we…” he stammered unintelligibly. 

Crowley made a rash decision, giving himself no time at all to rethink it, and hooked a finger under the angel’s chin. Aziraphale gasped in a very human way and turned his eyes to meet the demon’s, all wide, pupils dilated almost so the beautiful blue of his irises had been eaten up. He leaned in and quickly placed a chaste kiss on the angel’s lips. Aziraphale shook just a bit at the new, foreign contact. 

Worried that he’d gone and ruined everything, Crowley started to pull away. Aziraphale seemed to have a different idea, though, his soft hands coming up to the collar of the demon’s silk pajama top to hold him steadfast as he pressed back into the kiss. Their first kiss. 

Their touches became more desperate, until Aziraphale reached out for him, drunk on passion, and dug his fingers into the tender part of Crowley’s very recently stitched thigh. At first he enjoyed it, having always been a bit of a masochist, but his moan transitioned very quickly into a hiss as the pain overtook the pleasure. He cried out and Aziraphale jumped away as far as he could without getting up. 

“Are you alright love?” he gasped, eyes quickly darting to survey the damage. 

Crowley nodded and groaned as the pain ebbed away. 

“P-perhaps we should save our, erm...excitement, for when you’ve healed. I don’t want to hurt you...I don’t...I’m sorry. I-I” the angel stammered. 

Crowley reached out to him and he gingerly took his hand. “S’fine, angel.” He shook his head. “Please...please don’t go.” He had trouble keeping the sorrow out of his voice. He was so tired of being alone. 

Aziraphale’s face transitioned from trepidation into confusion. “Wh-why would I leave?” 

“You...I was just making sure.” Crowley lied. “You’re not...you aren’t very good with pain. I don’t want to be more than you can handle...I-I just…” anything to make him stay. 

The confusion became distaste. “You think I’ll run away.”

“No-angel...I...well...yes.” He nodded, dropping his gaze. 

“That’s fair…” Aziraphale sighed. “What with recent events, I can understand your fear. I-I’m sorry, dear. I was putting my faith in fallible creatures that cared even less for me than they do the world while you’ve been here, all the while, always coming back to me. How can I prove to you that I’m serious? How can I show you that I want to be here?” He put his hand on Crowley’s cheek, tilting his face to make eye contact. 

A burning tear slid from the demon’s eye as he looked up at his angel. He didn’t know what to say, opening his mouth and closing it again, in silence, as his mind fought to find something, anything at all to say to him. 

“I love you, Crowley.” there was a twinge of desperation in the angel’s voice. Crowley’s mind fell to pieces, he felt as though he were grasping at straws- he couldn’t possibly mean…-

“Angels love all of God’s creatures…” Crowley’s throat felt raw. 

Aziraphale frowned, “Fuck the _ lot of them _ , darling, I’m talking about  _ you. I love you, Crowley. I. Love. You. _ ” 

“I love you, too, angel.” the demon smiled sheepishly. He felt lightheaded. 

“Perhaps we’ll order in some lunch, later on, but right now I’d rather like you to take a nap. May I tuck you in?” 

Crowley shook his head and yawned. “M’not tired.” He lied. 

“Not at all?” Aziraphale asked, calling his bluff. 

“Nope.” He shook head head. 

“Nothing about being tucked under the nice warm duvet appeals to you?” The angel crossed his arms over his chest. 

Crowley tried not to think about it, yawning again and shook his head as he stretched, “nuh uh.” 

“Crowley, why are you doing this?” he pouted. 

“Doing what?” the demon smiled. 

“The minute we step out, you’ll be overwhelmed by everything and you’ll get all huffy, we’ll be out to tea and you’ll be nodding off in your chair. I’ll have to miracle us back, and I’m not even hungry, I just want you to get better.”

“Wherever you’re going, I want to go.” Crowley huffed, determined. 

“Who said I was going anywhere without you?” the angel grinned. 

“You said you’d tuck me in.” 

“Yes, and the offer still stands.” 

“That implies a desire to be elsewhere, and leave me here.” He had no intention of actually saying what was on his mind- it would leave him far too vulnerable, to admit that he didn’t want to be alone. 

“I never said I was leaving you alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I...I need you to stay...here.” Crowley spoke with the lowest voice he could manage, not making eye contact. He wasn’t asking him. He was telling him, being assertive. An  _ assertive  _ demon, that was what Crowley was. 

“Why don’t you come here, then.” Aziraphale sighed and shifted in the bed, pulling the duvet back and leaning more fully against the headboard, holding the blanket out so that the demon could crawl underneath. Crowley said nothing, simply taking what was offered to him and wrapped his body around his angel’s warmth as he pulled the duvet snuggly around them. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim him. 

  
  



End file.
